


Ripe

by oorsprong



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Butt Slapping, Domestic Fluff, Grocery Shopping, Hand Feeding, Hux puts up with so much, Innuendo, M/M, Public Display of Affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 08:36:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11940384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oorsprong/pseuds/oorsprong
Summary: Hux is intent on getting through his shopping list.  Ben is intent on being distracting.Based on the following prompt by the amazingjakkutrashheap:'modern day grocery store, Hux is checking his list on his phone, while Kylo walks by behind him, grabbing his ass'The phone didn't quite make it in but the ass in question absolutely did.





	Ripe

**Author's Note:**

> This was my dream pairing. [jakkutrashheap](http://jakkutrashheap.tumblr.com/)'s art is a Kylux staple-- some of the softest, loveliest, most erotic art imaginable. 
> 
> I'm so happy to be part of this collaboration.

 

 

Hux stumbles forward as Ben bumps him with the cart for the second time.  He snaps his head around in time to see Ben cringe and breaks into a sheepish grin that Hux mustn’t look directly at for fear of undermining the much-deserved outburst Ben is about to be on the receiving end of.

 

Unfortunately, his gaze draws to it like a magnet.  Can’t keep his eyes off his clumsy boyfriend.  He meanders behind Hux’s efficient path through the grocery store, pushing the cart as an afterthought.  He knows that Ben is disciplined in his own way but he thinks with his stomach.  That’s how a jar of Nutella ended up in the cart.  Hux hasn’t touched the stuff since he was a kid.

 

“I’m gonna grab some of the Manwich.”  Ben points to a shelf of cans that seem to be displaying some sort of ground meat sandwich.Hux has never even known such a thing existed and is certain he will get by the rest of his life without it.

 

“That sounds like innuendo,” he retorts.  In response Ben raises both brows and shocks him with a slap on the ass as he passes.  Three cans of the stuff join the Nutella, a block of pre-marinated cooked tofu, and more instant ramen packages than Hux feels comfortable with.

 

Hux prefers real food; baked chicken and potatoes mashed by hand, gravy made of pan drippings, fruit salad that hasn’t been suspended in gelatin or mixed with that horrible marshmallow creme Ben loves.  Strange how their drastically different upbringings have set them at odds when it comes to food.  Ben’s people were all for family dinners that favored a comforting rotation of casseroles, roasts, and vegetable side dishes.  At least, it sounds comforting to Hux.  He’d eaten from boxes and microwave packets as a child.  As soon as he had the space and freedom to cook he did little else.  Ben, on the other hand, eschews “Dad’s Meatloaf” in favor of all the salty snacks and cheap high-calorie dinners he can stomach.  

 

“Can you believe some people got to eat macaroni and cheese for dinner every night growing up?” he once asked Hux in disbelief.

 

Hux has no trouble believing that at all.

 

Fortunately Ben shares his love of fresh fruit so the produce section promises to be an easy shop.  It’s reasonably uncrowded for a Sunday morning and Hux heads right for the pricier organics, side-eyeing a basket of bruised Gala apples at seventy-five cents a pound.  The organic apples look better.  At least he thinks so.  The rosy row of Gala apples calls to him until he spies the Golden Delicious.

 

“Red or yellow?” he asks Ben.

 

“Green.”

 

Hux makes a face.  “Alright.  Then two of each and two Granny Smith for you.”

 

“Green apples are the best,” Ben tells him for the thousandth time, as though this will be the time Hux gives in and agrees with him.  He won’t.  That entire outlook is troublesome to say the least.

 

He’s bagging the apples when Ben comes up behind him and pinches his butt.

 

“What are you doing?” Hux asks with a snort, fighting to keep his composure.

 

The response comes in a hushed tone that tickles his ear, “Getting you to lighten up,”

 

He absolutely wants to protest but those large hands are hovering at his hips and a chin rests comfortably on his shoulder and he’s in grave danger of succumbing to an impromptu cuddle right in front of the Bosc pears.

 

“We do have to finish this by ten.”

 

“You can keep shopping,” Ben teases, “I’ll be right here.”

 

With some effort he manages to pull away and head for the cantaloupe, struggling to keep a grin off his face.  Absurd that even after all this time together Ben can still reduce him to this.  And in public, for godsakes.  

 

“These feel heavier than they look when ripe,” he mutters to no one in particular, weighing the cantaloupe in one hand.  Ben comes up behind him and cups one rear cheek in his hand.

 

“Seems ripe to me.”

 

Hux quiets him with a swat, blushing despite himself.  He escapes to the mangos and begins to pick out a few for a salad he’ll make tomorrow.  Right before he can squeeze one Ben’s large hand comes down on his ass and squeezes _him_ , making him drop the mango back on the pile in surprise.

 

“How do you know this one’s ripe?” Ben taunts him in a low voice.

 

“You… squeeze them.”  He’s blushing furiously now.  

 

A breathy laugh turns his legs to jelly.  “Looks like I’m a pro at this.”

 

“Watermelons aren’t malleable, of course,” Hux points to the watermelons as though he isn’t being fondled by a big horny oaf in the produce section of FarmFresh.  “They ought to sound hollow when the outside is tapped.”

 

The flat of Ben’s hand comes down on his bottom and he squeaks.

 

“How does that sound?”

 

Ben nuzzles his cheek and Hux steadies himself against the cart handle.  

 

“Strawberries!” he yelps.  They’re even on sale.  Ben’s hand presses gently against his lower back as Hux pushes the cart towards the strawberries on display.  There isn’t a crowd around them and he thanks his good fortune for that as he sniffs a carton and then opens it to peer inside.

 

“These smell good; sweet.”

 

“I’ve got a handful of something sweet,” Ben says, squeezing his ass again.

 

This time Hux is prepared.  Having satisfied himself that no one is paying attention he reaches back and shoves a strawberry into Ben’s mouth to shut him up, provoking a muffled laugh and buying a bit of silence in which to peer over the raspberries.  Smirking to himself he picks up two cartons to load into the cart and nearly drops them when Ben surprises him by gently grasping his chin and turning his head to plant a strawberry-flavored kiss right on his lips, cutting off any protest at the source.

 

“You’re a scoundrel, Ben Solo,” Hux scolds him as soon as he catches his breath.  He wipes at his mouth hastily with the back of his hand.  His boyfriend’s gaze is so fond and indulgent that he almost drops the raspberries again.

 

“Are we done shopping yet?”

 

Determined to make Ben pay for his distractions Hux ignores him and heads over to the vegetable aisle.  Thinking about eggplant parmesan he almost grabs for a fat purple one before second-guessing himself.  No need to give Ben ideas.  Feeling safe among the Spanish onions he hums to himself while bagging up a few pounds and nabbing a sack of garlic for spaghetti sauce tonight.  

 

They’ll need wine of course; a bottle of chianti.  It doesn’t have to be expensive if it’s going in the sauce.  He picks out some mushrooms, peering over them with a frown before selecting a big portobello mushroom with an impressive cap.

 

“Will you grab some of those Roma tomatoes?”

 

“Yes, Dear.”  Ben smirks at him and pulls a plastic bag from the overhead roll.  “Are you sure you don’t want the beefsteak tomatoes.  They’re bigger and juicier.”  He winks and Hux rolls his eyes.

 

“Not for sauce I don’t.  And don’t be crude.”

 

“And feeding me strawberries by hand isn’t?”

 

“That wasn’t crude, that was a tactical maneuver.”

 

“I’ll show you a tactical maneuver,” Ben says, and Hux has to laugh when he returns with a bag of beautifully plump Romas and two large, perfect eggplants.

 

“Don’t think I didn’t catch you eying these,” he murmurs, placing them in the cart and settling a hand on his waist.  “Gonna cook me a romantic dinner tonight?”

 

“Only if you’re on your best behavior and so far I’m unimpressed.”

 

“Hmmm….”  Ben takes hold of the cart again and steers it towards the leafy greens.  “I’ll make you a deal.  I’ll put together that strawberry summer salad you love as an appetizer if you cook the rest of the meal.  And we’ll pick up chocolate sauce for the strawberries so we can have dessert.

 

Hux knows full well what Ben means by dessert and it’s a temptation worth giving into.  But not quite yet.

 

“Put those thoughts on hold until we’re done with the necessities,” Hux warns him, pressing a warning hand to his lips when Ben leans in to stop him snatching another kiss.  Ben kisses his fingertips instead and takes his hand.

 

“Maybe seducing you is on my list of necessities,” Ben says with an infuriating grin.

 

“You sound like a trashy novel,” Hux protests, but he’s charmed.  When Ben gets it into his head to spoil him that way it’s always an eventful night.  And he’ll put up with all the shameless double entendres and corny innuendo in the world for it.  But Ben doesn’t need that kind of encouragement.

 

Speaking of corn…

 

“What do you think of grilled corn on the cob for tomorrow night?”

 

“With herb butter?”  Ben perks up and Hux smiles to himself.  Hux’s homemade herb butter is ridiculously simple but it blows Ben away every time he makes it.

 

“Absolutely.  Just the way you like it.”

 

Ben kisses his hand again.   “I’ll get the rosemary and chives.”  He hurries off for fresh herbs and Hux determines to make good use of the time by finding the perfect bag of baby spinach.  A few minutes later he’s still debating his choice of salad greens when Ben shows up with his arms full of herbs, a pint of lemon gelato, a package of hot dogs, and three boxes of Kraft Deluxe.  Hux sighs.  He can make a homemade macaroni casserole from scratch with elbow noodles and a creamy roux bursting with tangy sharp cheddar, Parmigiano-Reggiano, and Gruyère but Ben will never enjoy it as much as the affront to cheese that comes in the blue box.  And to add insult to injury he’ll chop up two hot dogs and dump them on top.

 

“For lunch,” Ben says, his eyes pleading.  Not pleading to buy the offensive stuff, of course, as he’ll buy it with or without Hux’s approval.  He’s pleading for Hux to keep his mouth shut about the sodium content.  And he will.

 

This time.

 

Instead he accepts the new additions to the cart with grace and places the gelato between a bag of frozen tilapia and a jumbo box of pizza bagels to keep everything cool.  

 

“Almost done here?” Ben asks, trying and failing to sound nonchalant.

 

“Not quite.  If you pick out the asparagus I’ll find the artichokes.  And Ben?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Get the ones with the thick stalks, please.”

 

Ben breaks into a cocky grin.  “Oh, i know what you like.”  He turns and Hux shoots a cool glance at his departing rump when he knows he won’t be caught.

 

“You do, indeed,” he says to himself with a wistful smile.

  


***

  


Payback comes at the checkout line.  It’s late in the morning and shoppers flock to the cashiers with with fully loaded carts.  Hux and Ben get in line and settle in for the wait.  Hux has packed the cart just so, so that frozen stays with frozen and cool benefits from frozen and items that must stay dry and room temperature have a bit of a barrier.  With any luck they’ll be out of the store in twenty minutes.  That’s plenty of time to bait his tease of a boyfriend where no one else can see.  

 

As Ben sets the last case of La Croix on the belt and comes up behind Hux to wrap his arms around him, Hux surprises him with a little wiggle against his crotch.

 

The soft sound that escapes Ben’s lips is pure gratification.  With a full shopping cart behind them, the cashier busy, and the candy aisle providing a barrier against prying eyes he’s free to slip a hand down and offer a condescending pat to the front of his pants.

 

“Maybe we’ll go straight home so you can show me what a good boy you are.”

 

Ben retaliates by giving his ass a hard squeeze.

 

“Now how am I expected to be good when you’re being a little troublemaker,” he murmurs.  He swipes a finger just so along Hux’s cleft, making him tremble.  Hux knows Ben would happily spend hours tracing the curves of his “favorite little butt” but it’s Hux’s turn to play dirty.  He casually reaches a hand back as though he’s aiming for the Skittles and succeeds in groping Ben instead.

 

Fate seems to work in Hux’s favor when, before Ben can even summon a response beyond a startled gasp a cart bumps them from behind and he’s pushed forward against Hux.  Hux wastes no time grinding back against him so that Ben catches him around the waist and exhales.

 

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that.”

 

“Just checking for firmness,” Hux quips back.  “And it seems quite firm to me.”

 

Ben drops his head to bite his shoulder before playfully nipping at his neck.  With his arms tight around Hux there is no escape.  Nor can he withhold the halting laugh that sneaks out.  The cashier shoots them a look that insinuates she’s got a long day ahead of her she’s not getting paid to cope with this level of PDA.

 

 _Fair enough_ , Hux thinks, gently disentangling them.

 

“What are you making us for dinner?” Ben murmurs, resting a hand on the back of his neck and playing with the short hair at the base of his scalp.

 

“Something saucy.”  He pauses as Ben chuckles into his hair.  “I’ve got a craving for spaghetti with roasted tomatoes and spicy sausage… some grilled eggplant, mushrooms, and asparagus on the side.  I’m sure it will be the perfect second course for your salad.”

 

“And for dessert?”

 

Ben trails a hand down the back of his neck and nuzzles the crown of his scalp and it’s all Hux can do to keep his eyes forward and focused on their groceries as they inch ever nearer the cashier on the world’s slowest moving belt.

 

“You already know what we’re having for dessert.”

 

***

  


It’s too hot in the parking lot for Hux’s taste.  He slips on his sunglasses and helps Ben load the groceries into the trunk; frozen goods at the bottom of the cooler and cold stuff on top.  Dry and room temperature settled in place to cushion fragile fruit and vegetables.  Ben opens the carton of raspberries and slips one between Hux’s lips before he can protest, running a thumb over his lower lip as he swallows and then bringing it to his own mouth to lick away a drop of red juice.

 

Hux quickly closes the trunk and pulls Ben into his arms, eliciting a startled grin

 

“Don’t think you can pull that kind of stunt and avoid retaliation,” he murmurs, slipping his hands into Ben’s back pockets.

 

“Checking for firmness?” Ben teases.

 

“Oh you’re far past ripe and running to rotten,” he whispers against lips that part easily for his.  “And you know what happens to rotten boys who spoil their dinners.   _They don’t get dessert.”_

 

He nips Ben’s lower lip and squeezes his ass.  And to his delight, it’s Ben’s turn to blush.

 

 


End file.
